The 76th Hunger Games
by starlight0x0
Summary: The Capitol stopped the rebellion, and added a very special twist in the 76th Games. Told by Azalea from District 11.
1. Morning of the reaping

Blossom gives a sharp intake of breath as we aprroach the front of the queue. 'They are just going to prick you to get a bit of your blood. It won't hurt' I whisper, but I can still hear her quiet whimper as she gives her blood sample. As she is herded off towards the other 12 year olds, I watch her from a clump of 14 year olds. It is stupid, making everybody come when it is clear who will be chosen. The odds are tight on the betting today.

District 11's escort, Liliana Glow, saunters onto the stage, with her crazy Capitol look. Her face has been implanted with glitter, so that it glows in an unnatural way. Our new mayor, Mayor Hirst, reads the Treaty of Treason, the rules of the Hunger Games. Liliana Glow takes the microphone one again, and announces, 'Our first tribute!' She pulls out one of the eight sheets of paper from the single reaping bowl, and announces, 'Azalea Rhodes.' The crowd claps lightly as I walk onto the stage.

'Fabulous, fabulous,' Liliana smirks. 'How old are you deary?'

'Fourteen,' I mumble.

'Wonderful,' continues Liliana. 'And now for our next tribute,' snagging another piece of paper, she reads, 'Blossom Rhodes.' Her hands clenched in fists, she shuffles slowly to the stage, and up the set of steps. She goes straight into my arms. The other names are a blur, as I wrap Blossom tightly in my arms.

When the reaping has finally finished, Peacekeepers march us into the Justice Building. Our Justice Building is tiny and shabby, the room I am left is huge, furnished with rich velvet. This is the time for us to say goodbye to our loved ones. Yet nobody comes. Nobody but Blossom loves me.

An hour later, a Peacekeeper collects me, and takes me to a truck behind the building. I've never ridden in a truck before, so I savour the ride to the station. The other tributes sit around me, all of us breathing deeply, gradually in time with each other. Blossom rests her head on my shoulder, but I slowly shrug her away. I hope she understands me. I need people to fear me, to stay away from me, so they stay away from Blossom.

The truck journey drags out, but the smooth motion gives lulls me into a sense of calm. But all of that is interrupted when we arrive at the station. A Peacekeeper grabs us and pulls us onto the platform. 'Get out, TRAITORS,' he sneers. I oblige.

The station is crowded with merchants, who can afford the time off to watch us go. They look at us, eyes wide, with despair and sympathy. District 11 was one of the only Districts in fully-fledged rebellion. I can see scars forming from whippings and torture.

We are pushed onto the train, and I stand in the doorway, staring into their faces. I am more than relieved when the doors pull shut and the train speeds off.

 **Author note: Looking for a beta reader so please PM if interested. Probably can't update much so please be patient. Also, please submit tributes if you want.**


	2. The Reaping

Blossom gives a sharp intake of breath as we aprroach the front of the queue. 'They are just going to prick you to get a bit of your blood. It won't hurt' I whisper, but I can still hear her quiet whimper as she gives her blood sample. As she is herded off towards the other 12 year olds, I watch her from a clump of 14 year olds. It is stupid, making everybody come when it is clear who will be chosen. The odds are tight on the betting today.

District 11's escort, Liliana Glow, saunters onto the stage, with her crazy Capitol look. Her face has been implanted with glitter, so that it glows in an unnatural way. Our new mayor, Mayor Hirst, reads the Treaty of Treason, the rules of the Hunger Games. Liliana Glow takes the microphone one again, and announces, 'Our first tribute!' She pulls out one of the eight sheets of paper from the single reaping bowl, and announces, 'Azalea Rhodes.' The crowd claps lightly as I walk onto the stage.

'Fabulous, fabulous,' Liliana smirks. 'How old are you deary?'

'Fourteen,' I mumble.

'Wonderful,' continues Liliana. 'And now for our next tribute,' snagging another piece of paper, she reads, 'Blossom Rhodes.' Her hands clenched in fists, she shuffles slowly to the stage, and up the set of steps. She goes straight into my arms. The other names are a blur, as I wrap Blossom tightly in my arms.

When the reaping has finally finished, Peacekeepers march us into the Justice Building. Our Justice Building is tiny and shabby, the room I am left is huge, furnished with rich velvet. This is the time for us to say goodbye to our loved ones. Yet nobody comes. Nobody but Blossom loves me.

An hour later, a Peacekeeper collects me, and takes me to a truck behind the building. I've never ridden in a truck before, so I savour the ride to the station. The other tributes sit around me, all of us breathing deeply, gradually in time with each other. Blossom rests her head on my shoulder, but I slowly shrug her away. I hope she understands me. I realise that I need people to fear me, to stay away from me, so they stay away from Blossom.

The truck journey drags out, but the smooth motion gives lulls me into a sense of calm. But all of that is interrupted when we arrive at the station. A Peacekeeper grabs us and pulls us onto the platform. 'Get out, TRAITORS,' he sneers. I oblige.

The station is crowded with merchants, who can afford the time off to watch us go. They look at us, eyes wide, with despair and sympathy. District 11 was one of the only Districts in fully-fledged rebellion. I can see scars forming from whippings and torture.

We are pushed onto the train, and I stand in the doorway, staring into their faces. I am more than relieved when the doors pull shut and the train speeds off.

 **Author note: Looking for a beta reader so please PM if interested. Probably can't update much so please be patient. Also, please submit tributes if you want. Form is on my profile. Will continue when I have some tributes. (Submitting will close on 10th June)**


	3. Train ride

The train speeds off, leaving District 11 far behind. I turn to the two other tributes, indentical twins, and say, simply, 'Hey.' I can't think of any other words for this situation. Our escort, Liliana, approaches, and says, 'Come on, lets what the recap of the reapings.'

She leads us down the hallway to the television room. I marvel at its size. Of course, it belongs to the Capitol, but I never imagined that even the trains would be this decadent. The screen was paper-thin, spanning the length of the longest wall. I sink down onto the sofa. I sigh at its comfort, as the soft leather engulfs me. Somehow, I feel giddy, and start giggling. I notice the two twins, from the year above me at school. They look strong and menacing. I hope they don't join the Careers. No Eleven would ever be that ... Well, there are even words to describe it.

The screen bursts into life, unlike the old crackle on our television. You had to turn it on ten minutes before the broadcast started. First up was District 1. Shame volunteers are still allowed. The readings run smoothly in 1,2 and 4, as the four selected volunteers in each district step up onto the stage. Typical Careers. For the girls, two simpering blondes who look so innocent, but there is no doubt of their power to kill. The boys are strong and agile. In two, the deadly look on their faces sends a shiver down my spine. The volunteers in four look less healthy, with less training, but still terrify me.

In 3, the four tributes are practically dragged onto stage by Peacekeepers, still suffering from injuries and trying to protest the Games. I barely notice the tributes in Five through Ten. Sure victims of the bloodbath or the first few days. Then I see the District 11 reaping. Me making my way to the stage, and the sighs from Caesar and the other commentator, Riley Faye, as I embrace my sister. They regain their usual patter as Lucas and Ross Donald are called. Caesar and Riley highlight their strengths, suggesting a Career/Outer District alliance. I hope not.

Our victors, Nero and Kay, enter and sit across from us. Nero is perched on the edge of his seat, ready to run at any time. He looks across the room for danger. So this is the life of a victor. Years later, still scarred from the Games. Kay begins, "Look, you know why you're here, and you ain't gonna be popular with the Capitol. So we gotta make them like you. I'm just workin' out how to do that, but I mighty hope your stylists have a good plan for the ceremonies. Just enjoy the train. 'Specially the food.' She winks and strolls out, shortly followed by Nero.

"So..." I begin. I hope for an alliance. They would be useful allies. "I'm Azalea, and this is my sister, Blossom." Neither of them reply. I sit there awkwardly, shuffling, until Lucas (well, I think its Lucas) replies, "Yeah. We know. I'm Lucas." I feel a sense of pride. I actually COULD tell them apart! "And I'm Ross."

"Hey," I sigh. "Were you two in the rebellion?" I ask. The Capitol promised not to kill or torture any under 16s, but they never followed that rule, so I guess they can't have been. But I just wanted to break the ice.

"Nah, but our parents led with yours." Lucas slightly smiled.

"Obviously," Ross snarled.

The train speeds on, as the sun sets over the mountaintops. We must have travelled far north to be near snowy mountains. Even with the warm breeze programmed on this train, I feel a shiver coursing through my veins.

I feel a yawn approaching, but I stifle it and slip away to bed. My bedroom is the most luxurious thing I've ever seen. The bed is huge, and I slip under the covers. I bet there are more clothes in the drawers, but I'm too tired. Anyway, I don't think I can ever leave. The duvet encompasses me, and the rhythm lulls me into a soft sleep.


End file.
